A Most Dangerous Game
by passing.strange
Summary: Rough, passionate kisses in dimly lit corridors. Sweet, tender caresses in the light of a fire. Two lovers, two boys growing to men before her eyes. In the shadows of a dark war, they're playing a most dangerous game. DMHGBZ 6th year no slash.


_**Hey everyone! This is a short intro-prologue thing into my newest Dramione/Blamione story "A Most Dangerous Game". It's sixth year, not quite AU but not quite canon either. At least, it'll start off canon and transmorf into something completely else XD It's a little angsty than most stuff I've written before, so I hope I do alright. I haven't quite decided who Hermione is going to end up with, Blaize or Draco, so as the story goes on I would appreciate it if you could give me your input in reviews or messages. All feedback is appreciated! Enjoy!**_

_Bodies intwined._

_Hot breath on the back of her neck._

_Sweat dripping down her stomach._

_The rough, passionate kiss of a lover in disguise._

She hated him. God, she hated him. He was coarse, cruel, rude, and every other negative thing a human could possibly be. He wasn't the soft, gentle lover that every young girl dreamed of. He was rough and dangerous, filled with a burning passion that was nothing short of terrifying. And she hated him more than anything in the world.

Their arrangement didn't change that. The first time it had happened she had been scared that the hatred she felt for him would turn into some twisted love, and then she would be trapped in his web of deceit without a way out. That had been her biggest fear, bigger than Voldemort himself - falling in love with her rival, her enemy. But four months later, four months into this alternate reality and she still hated him more than anything. Whether he was inside of her, bringing her to the point of no return with every thrust, or glaring at her from across the Great Hall, the only feeling she felt for him was hate. That was the way it had been, and that was the way it would always be.

So when he finished and they collapsed, a tangle of arms and legs, she uttered the same words every single time.

"I hate you."

Because she did. She hated the way his blonde hair fell in his face, she hated the icily pale skin pulled tight over defined muscles. She hated how he was growing into a man so much like his father. She hated how he called her name, how he bullied her and shoved her around like she was lower than a piece of dirt. But she especially hated how he was _bad_, one of them. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater, the tatoo on his left forearm proved it, and Merlin did she hate him for it.

He laughed, a mocking, scathing sound, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. That was another thing she hated about him, how in moments like this one he somehow managed to make her feel so beautiful. When they walked through the corridors of the castle he would call her ugly and a mudblood and all sorts of other terrible things, but in private when their bodies were one and there was no one else around, when they had both found the release they needed, he made her feel like the most precious thing in the world. Not with his words, because they rarely spoke at all, but with is post-sex touch, the one so different from the rough way he would touch her during. It was soft, and almost kind, and despite everything it made her feel wonderful.

But oh, how she hated him.

"Love, you don't hate me half as much as I hate you." It's strange, the affect these words have on her. Instead of getting in a battle of wits, a soft purr escapes her lips, and she finds herself craving him more than ever. He _hates _her. Normally if a guy said that to a girl after sex the girl would slap him in the face, but knowing that nothing has changed in their relationship just made her hunger for him intensify.

So she smirks and reaches her hand down, wrapping it around his hardening mahnood whispering into his ear. "Say it again." She needs to hear them, the three words that will keep her grounded, and keep some stability in a war-filled world. Those three words that will allow her to open herself up to him in ways she never will to anyone else, just to feel like nothing is changing when everything is.

"Hermione Granger, I _hate _you."

God, she needs him.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**As she fell asleep with him snoring by her side, she thought back on the day their "arrangement" began.**

**It wasn't a romantic moment, which was good because romance didn't suit them. They didn't catch eyes from across a crowded room, and he didn't tell her she was the most beautiful girl in the world. They weren't Head Boy and Head Girl, forced together by a twist of fate only to realize how perfect they were for each other. That was romanic, superficial nonsense, and if there was one thing Hermione would never have with Draco, it was romance. There was no newly discovered love between the two, no professions of pent-up feelings over expensive glasses of wine. **

**She had been headed to the kitchens for a late night snack when she had caught him wandering around the hallways, looking for something. Curious, she had followed, and soon enough large doors were forming and she was following him into the Room of Requirement. It was cluttered, a storage room of some sort, and she was lucky he was so focused on whatever he was trying to do because she was able to follow him in without him realizing she was even there. It was wrong, **_**so **_**wrong, and she had a terrible feeling he would kill her if he knew she was there, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was how determined he was do do whatever it was he was going to do.**

**But she never found out, because next thing she knew he was facing her, wand drawn.**

**Perhaps she wasn't as sneaky as she had originally thought.**

**They didn't speak. It wasn't a kind of moment that needed to be filled with words. His wand was at her throat, and she was waiting for the hex, some kind of spell made especially for him to show stupid, meddling mudbloods who the boss was. It was coming any second, she knew, so when she scrunched up her eyes and leaned back the last thing she was expecting where his lips on hers.**

**It wasn't slow, or soft, or simple. The kiss was rough and demanding, as if he was daring her to try and fight it. Which was exactly what she did, because she was Hermione Granger and she realized how completely and entirely messed up this whole thing was. Malfoy was kissing her, and he was kissing her like he was expecting something out of it. Something which she was certain he wouldn't get.**

**That was, of course, until he muttered the words "I hate you" against her lips. **

**From that moment on, he was completely in control.**


End file.
